Aftermath
by The Other
Summary: The not-Epilogue to 'Daddy Lessons'. Set immediately afterwards.


_**A/N: Immediately following the end of Chapter 12 of 'Daddy Lessons' - .net/s/7351890/12/Daddy_Lessons - this happens. We didn't want to add it as an epilogue because it doesn't do anything in terms of anything. More first person :D**_

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><p>Blaine threw himself into the car and slammed the door. He was silent for no more than a few seconds, before his wide eyes turned to me.<p>

"What are you waiting for? Drive, Wes! Drive!" he turned to the window and peered out, finding Kurt still standing where he'd left him, looking stunned. "Oh god, what have I done?"

I started the engine, thoroughly amused. This wasn't the cool, calm, collected and overly-joyful Blaine I had seen at dinner on Friday night. This was _exactly_ the Blaine I remembered from before Toronto – always over-analysing and freaking out over the little things, when he was behind closed doors, of course.

Blaine was still muttering to himself. "Oh god...oh god, what have I done? Why did I do that? Thank god your car has tinted windows. Oh god, oh god. What prompted me to do that? We just lost our baby for god's sake..." his ramblings were getting more and more incoherent.

"Blaine." I said calmly, used to these outbursts. "Speak to me. What happened?"

"I just..." he groaned in frustration. "I basically told him we were having a real baby!"

"You told him you were pregnant?" he gave me a dark look and I backtracked, chuckling. "How did you manage that?"

"Ugh, I wanted him to feel better, and I just told him that it wouldn't hurt forever, and that it would be better when we had one of our own."

I almost snorted. It was such a Blaine thing to say. "Oh. Stop stressing. Text him and tell him that it was just an offhand comment...?"

"But what if it wasn't? Oh god, Wes, what if I don't want a baby. Wait, what if _he _wants a baby and I don't? Or what if _he _doesn't want a baby and I do! Wes, I'm only 17, I shouldn't have to deal with this stuff! It's too much!"

"Blaine." I said firmly, slamming my hand on the steering wheel and mimicking the sound of my gavel to silence him. "Calm down. If you're that worried, text Kurt and figure it out. Otherwise, shut up."

Blaine seemed to pout for a second, a retort forming on his lips, but I switched on my iPod before he could, drowning out any and all moaning he was about to do. Sulky Blaine was not fun to deal with.

From the corner of my eye, I could see him still talking – his lips were moving rapidly – he was probably still ranting about how much of an idiot he was. That was okay – at least I couldn't hear him.

The rest of the trip took _ages. _Especially because turning my music down would result in hearing Blaine's rambling. Pulling into Dalton, I practically threw off my seatbelt and opened the door before I turned off the engine. Last time Blaine was in one of _these _moods, it had been during his sexuality crisis with the singer from New Directions called Rachel. I'd had to console him then, and damn it if I had to do it again. Spending two weeks with a depressed, confused Warbler with a very clichéd 'woe-is-me' playlist was enough for any man to have to deal with.

It was David's turn, at the very least.

I popped the boot so Blaine could get his stuff and bolted.

^.^

Blaine entered the dormitory foyer a few minutes later, his stuff under his arm, looking crestfallen.

"I texted him." He said softly, and I raised my eyebrow from where I sat on the couch, immersed in a magazine.

I actually wasn't paying attention to said magazine – I just needed something to make me look like I was busy so I wouldn't have to talk to Blaine.

Damn. He spotted the eyebrow.

"Wes..." he looked sad, heading over to me. "Wes...can you talk to me?"

I sighed, putting down the magazine and shooting a desperate look at David, who smirked and mouthed 'sorry'.

"What?"

"What if he texts back and breaks up with me?"

I scoffed. "Blaine, you said something that could be taken completely out of context. He won't break up with you over a tiny mistake like that. Kurt isn't like that at all – spending the last week with him should have taught you that, if anything."

As if on cue, the phone buzzed – Blaine had a new text. I may have misheard, but I swear Blaine let out a whimper. He grabbed his phone and opened the text.

His eyes grew very wide, and his fingers started shaking, and he stared at me with broken eyes.

"Wes..." he whispered, and I frowned.

Kurt wouldn't break up with him...would he? God, why I am I doubting myself? I snatched the phone from Blaine's hand and stared at the text.

**To; Blaine**

**Blainekins darl, im not having your kids. Soz bro, we're done.**

**From; Kurt.**

I couldn't help myself. I had to laugh. If looks could kill, I'd be long dead. The glare Blaine had given me was not only cold, but was tear-filled.

"Oh Blaine, you're a moron. Has Kurt _ever _called you Blainekins? Or bro?" I shook my head. "Or even darl?" Hell, it sounded weird when _I_ said it.

David came up behind the couch, holding his hand out and I passed the phone to him. He started to laugh, much harder than I had and Blaine's eyes started to fill with hope. The phone buzzed again and Blaine froze.

"Can you guys read it? Please. Only tell me if it's good." I opened the text. "Wait, no. I'll do it. No! Wait. Hold on. Don't tell me if it's good...wait..."

I shook my head again, reading the message with David looking over my shoulder.

_**To; Blaine**_

_**Oh god, Blaine. I'm sorry, please tell me you didn't take that literally. Puckerman stole my phone...again. I'm so sorry. Can you call me or something when you get this? **_

_**From; Kurt.**_

I grinned at David and subtly dialled Kurt's number, tossing the phone to Blaine. "It's ringing."

God I'm good.

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><p><em><strong>AN: We're ridiculous, right? We should just stop and lie down or something. It's too much :) Teaser chapter tomorrow - it'll be in my fic 'A Collection of Klaine'.  
><strong>_


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